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About Buea

And the risks! Oh, man, the risks—STDs, blackmail, some pimp jumpin’ me in an alley. I’m yellin’, “I’m too old for this crap!” Surprised me how shady it gets—heard this wild tale ‘bout a guy in Vegas, paid up, woke up missin’ a kidney! A kidney! True or not, I’m spooked! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but that’s my brain—runnin’ wild, picturin’ me in a bathtub of ice, screamin’, “This is unacceptable!”

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My massage parlour? In a modest building near Place de la Sérénité. The smell of incense and oil always tickles my senses. Hiss, I work there, day by day, and each muscle story tells a tale of the city. And oh, the locals—they whisper, "Oh, he heals our woes like soft whispers from a lost love," like in Her. Such phrases, like a lullaby: "I love you. I do." Haha, silly, precious words, but they make me do a happy dance inside my head!

Figure 1: Carte de localisation des stations d'échantillonnages...